Art school boy with big dreams of disappearing

tells me, I’ll be in this town someday.

Nameless, he walks through the streets in photos 

imagining himself alone. Always alone. 

He likes panting special in my ear, then leaving 

the taste of others on my lips in case I get too comfortable. 

Still, I push my knees into his and say, 

Touch me. 

Touch me and don’t think of them.

Touch me, so I can forget for a bit 

that there is somewhere else 

you’d rather be.